


Illegal & Convenient

by LadyOfDragonstone



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Daenerys is a foreigner, Dany loves the Stark kids, Domestic Fluff, Eventual Explicit sexual content, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, I spoke to 4 immigration lawyers to get this right lol, Immigration, Jon is their guardian, Marriage of Convenience, Modern AU, Modern politics mentioned- you've been warned, Mutual Pining, Past Character Death, R Plus L Does Not Equal J, Slow Burn, Stark kids are aged down, They grow in love, making the best of bad situations, past trauma, they don't fall in love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-06-15 22:15:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15422751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyOfDragonstone/pseuds/LadyOfDragonstone
Summary: Modern AU - written by LadyofDragonstone & edited by AdeciliaIn the face of deportation back to her dangerous home country, the prospect of marrying a stranger suddenly became appealing. It all started with a babysitting job, when had they grown so close?





	1. Anything

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aliciutza](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliciutza/gifts).



> This is loosely based on real stories around my life, so I hope it feels very grounded while still maintaining the feel of "destiny" and "growing in love" that Jon and Daenerys have embodied. 
> 
> My first Modern AU, and it took some guts to release it. I hope you like it.

DANY I.

\- - -

“Have you tried appealing for asylum?” 

Her hands were clenched on her lap, tightly, so they wouldn’t shake. Everyone that knew her secret was a potential threat, but she had to find help somehow. Even scheduling a free, thirty-minute consultation was a blow to her pride.

“Asylum won’t work,” Daenerys said in a small voice, “officially, my brother was killed in a car accident, but I know it was them. They’re trying to get to me. I could have been in the car with him, and they probably thought I was too. I knew I had to leave.”

Her immigration lawyer nodded and leaned forward to make a note of it. She was not much older than her, with a beautiful dark complexion and an accent. Dany was sure that she had once been an immigrant as well. 

“Do you know who it is that is terrorizing you? If you can find a way to prosecute them with your local government-“ 

“I’m an attorney too,” Dany reminded her in a stern voice. She had considered all of this hundreds of times before leaving. “As I’ve said before, there is more than one leader to the Stallion cartel. The ones I put behind bars were important, yes, but they weren’t the only ones. My government isn’t offering me any protection from them. We don’t have some big witness protection program, everyone that’s ever helped tear down the Stallion cartel has be threatened, but they don’t all die. They can’t hold everybody’s hand, including me. But I know that if I go back there, they’ll find me.”

A strange look crossed her lawyer's face. Dany did not like being pitied, but she needed empathy more than ever. Suddenly, living in the streets with her brother as a child seemed safer than her current state. 

“Is defense your only trade?” Ms. Naath asked, “Do you have any other certifications?”

Dany’s heart sank. “I studied law. I’ve been an attorney for years. I have a degree and experience.”

“Not here. Ours laws are not the same as in your country. Your degree is considered useless by any firm, unless go back to law school here, but they will not admit you as you are. I’m afraid that after overstaying your vacation Visa, you won’t be eligible for a student one.” 

She was useless. Daenerys thought back to the dozens of clients she had helped, and the criminals she had helped put behind bars. None of it could help her now. Part of her wanted to cry, but she had a strange, hysterical urge to laugh. Her throat was beginning to tighten, but she managed to keep tears at bay. 

“I have money,” Dany said suddenly, “Money from work. Money from inheritance. It won’t last me forever, but I can live on my own-“ 

The woman shook her hair, “Ms. Targaryen, you will not last here long without a job. And you cannot get a job without a work permit, not legally anyhow. Not unless you’re a resident or a citizen or you have a work visa. Do you have another trade?” 

Dany hesitated, “I can speak multiple languages."

That caught her interest, “How many?”

“Three.”

“Fluently?”

“Yes.”

“Are you certified to translate?”

“I could be.” A law degree was not enough to be a lawyer in a foreign country, but it was enough to get a certification. That filled her with hope. 

“Yes,” she agreed with a small smile, “That could work. But you will still need a work permit.”

Her hope withered. “Would a certificate be enough to get me a work visa?” 

Dany knew the answer before her lawyer said it, but it felt like another knife in her heart. She looked down to the ring on her hand, and a wild thought occurred to her that she might be able to sell it if she ran out of food. No, she thought angrily. She could not sell her mother’s ring. 

“So what are my options?”

“You can try to apply to asylum once more and wait, though they might not take kindly to you overstaying your temporary vacation Visa. Be mindful that it could put you at risk of deportation. You can try to find a sponsor for a work Visa, but it will not be easy. or you could-“

“Isn’t there a way to buy my way in?” she asked, sounding more desperate than she would have liked, “I will do anything to get away from there. I cannot go back. ”

“There is one other way.” 

Daenerys was told what she already knew, but could not even consider it. She looked down at her lap and took in a deep breath, willing herself to calm down. A year ago, she had felt successful and strong, when had she become so pathetic? Her lawyer stood up abruptly and poured a cup of water, coming around her desk to hand it to her. Dany muttered her thanks and gulped it down slowly, sniffling and refusing to cry. 

“Do you have any family here? Someone that might claim you?” 

Another gulp before answering. “My brother was my last family. There is no one for me here.”

That made her frown, “No friends here?”

“No.” She fixed a smile on her face and gathered her things, “Thank you for your help. I will contact you if I make any drastic choices.”

“Are you staying at a hotel?” The concern in her voice took Dany off guard.

“I am.” 

Brown eyes stared at blue, thinking silently until she made a decision. 

“I have a way I can help you,” she said after a while, “But I can't give you this as legal advice. In any case, I have more clients after you. I get out in two hours, if you’re willing to wait for me outside, we can get some coffee.”

This woman was Godsend. “I can wait.”

It was more than two hours, but Daenerys did not care. She was glad to have a book in her purse as clients emptied out of the waiting room one by one, until eventually, she was all alone. Ms. Naath walked out of her office looking so different that she was hardly recognizable. She had untucked her blouse from the office skirt and taken off her blazer. Her heels were replaced by flats, but the biggest change was the bouncy curls that sprung out of her bun, making her look younger. It occurred to Dany that they might be the same age, after all. 

“My hair is deemed unprofessional by some,” she said with a sad smile, “But I was getting a headache.”

“It’s very pretty. Bosses can be stupid.” 

For the first time that evening, they grinned at each other. “You can call me Missandei.” 

Missandei did not have the nicest car in the world, but it felt comforting to be in a vehicle that wasn’t a bus after months of public transit. She moved a stack of papers and another set of shoes away from the passengers seat. There was a keychain of colorful butterflies hanging from the rear view mirror, and a bag of ethnic candies inside the cupholder.

“Sorry for the mess.” she buckled on her seatbelt and held up the bag to her, “would you like a dulce candy?”

“Thanks,” she said, looking suspiciously at the milky cube in transparent wrapping paper. 

“One of my client brings them,” she explained, “They’re like a mix of caramel and milk, I can’t really explain it, really. But I like them.”

“Oh.” Dany put it inside her purse and nodded politely. “This is a good song."

That made her smile and turn up the volume, “Sade. She’s great.” 

They listened to it until pulling up to the nearest cafe, where Daenerys insisted on paying for both of their coffees. They settled in a far corner and talked in quiet voices. She didn't want to be overheard, but even that made her feel like an outlaw. She was.

“I know what it’s like” Missandei began, “to do everything you’re supposed to do and still be terrified. It took me years to become a legal citizen as well, but my situation is not like yours.”

Dany couldn’t stifle her curiosity, “did you get a student Visa?”

“I lived in this country my entire childhood illegally as well, except I had no choice. You see, I was victim of child trafficking.”

A chill ran down her spine. She looked down to her hands and groped for words, “I-I had no idea, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” Missandei took her hands and gripped them tightly, “I know the Stallion cartel has contributed it’s fair share to that business. I can’t say for sure who it was that initially stole me from my home, but I know they have investments in that business. They’re not like you and me, they're vile people, and anyone that has helped stop them is a friend of mine.”

Dany squeezed her hands in return and whispered, “I don’t regret it, you know. Even if I had known where it would put me, I don’t regret putting those bastards in their place."

“You’re brave,” she said, “And too young to have your future ruined. You seem smart and good, I’d like to help you. You must know I don’t do this for everyone, and I have a lot of clients. But if you’re willing to do anything to stay here, I might have some options.” 

“I’ll do anything.”

“Okay.” Missandei pulled back her hands and took out her phone, “Then there is someone I’d like you to meet.”


	2. Retirement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the midst of crisis, Jon is forced to take risks to keep his family together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might be a little hard to get through, since its mostly plot exposition, but I PROMISE that it's worth it. You might not understand why I added some aspects or why I went into detail about several things, but please give it a chance.
> 
> This chapter is 3K + words and took me a while to get together, but its only JON pov. That said, it should only make you even more excited for next chapter. 
> 
> Lots of angst and domestic fluff, so brace yourselves. 
> 
> Modern politics are discussed. You've been warned. Enjoy!

JON I.

\- - -

It took him a moment to register her words. If he had been younger, he might have asked her if she was teasing him, but her grievous tone told him otherwise.

“Retiring,” he repeated slowly.

It made perfect sense for a woman in her nineties to want to retire, but it was something Jon had never fathomed, not even as a child. Old Nan had always been ancient. Even his own father had met her when her hair was greying. The woman seemed as if she had been born old, with the sole purpose of looking after them.

“Wylis found himself a stable job,” she croaked, “He wants to take care of me and live in the same house. I’m too old for this, dear.”

She was too old for anything, but that would not soothe the hot panic growing in his chest. Wylis had worked for their family once, but that was long ago. A great deal of people had worked in his father’s estate. Old Nan was the only one who remained after they lost their fortune.

Be reasonable, Jon thought. “I can’t afford anyone else.”

“Sweetling.” She put both of her bony, wrinkled hands on his bristled cheeks. “I raised your father and your uncles. I raised you and your brother. I’ve taken care of this family for three generations. I love you all dearly, but I can’t do this any longer. I’m frail, and weak. I don’t have nearly as much help as I once did. You need someone stronger than me to take care of them.”

He pulled away from her grasp and exhaled loudly. His mind was filled by intrusive thoughts, damning her for being a liar. If the woman had ever loved them, she wouldn’t leave them. But he knew her words were true. She had always seemed more like family than a servant. Almost like a grandmother; grandmas didn’t retire. But she was not their family.

He clenched and unclenched his hand, trying to plan for whatever was next. Money would be an issue, he was sure, but he had no other choice than to find another nanny. “When are you leaving?”

“This is my two weeks notice.”

He felt as if she had slapped him. ”How can I find someone trustworthy enough to watch the kids in two weeks? I’m still trying to pay for Bran’s bills, and the funeral services- you know Lysa almost arranged to have their bodies cremated?! If Benjen hadn’t intervened, father’s body wouldn’t be resting in the family crypts. Who do you think had to pay for that? Please, Nan,” Jon leaned forward in his seat and held her by the shoulders gently, “We can’t lose you.“

“Sansa will help you,” she said softly, “She’s a strong girl.”

“Sansa is a child,” he said, loathing the shakiness of his voice.

“She’s fifteen.”

“She’s a child!” He hadn’t meant to be so harsh or to make her flinch. Jon didn’t want to wake up his siblings either, so he lowed his voice. “She has done beyond what anyone expected from her, taking the responsibilities around the house. I don’t know where I would be without her help, if I’m being honest, but she’s not an adult. She needs someone to look after her as well.”

“Then you should have sent them with their uncle.” Nan stood up and smiled sadly, “Your family took me in when no one else would and gave me a purpose. That’s what the Starks have always done. But that purpose has come to an end, and my time here will too. I want to be with my family, as you want to be with yours. I know you can understand that. Right now, it’s time for bed. Goodnight, Jon.”

He watched her cross the hall in the dim light, and take up the room that she lived in for as long as Jon has known her. He rubbed his hands over his face then went up the stairs to his room, making a mental note to research help on the evening. The noise from his job had left his head pounding, and the news of Old Nan’s retirement only served to fuel his headache. 

He had cleaned the bar after closing, and the drive home was long enough to delay his arrival past two in the morning. Everyone was usually asleep when he arrived, so it was a great shock to see the old woman sitting alone in the moonlight, waiting for him like a ghost.

Jon was craving his bed more than anything, but he turned to his closet instead. He picked out the first clean suit he saw and hung it on the door next to a button-down shirt and a tie. Only after he made sure that his office attire was ready did he turn off the lights and slip into bed, falling asleep before he could change into pajamas.

Sleep did not last long enough. He turned the alarm off his phone hours later, and went straight to his bathroom to splash cold water onto his face. He toweled his face dry and went downstairs. Jon felt like he hadn’t slept at all, but that was not an unfamiliar feeling.

“Arya,” he said, knocking on her door before entering. The youngest girl was the hardest to wake, but after a minute of groaning she sat up. She gave him a small, lazy smile then got out of her bed. 

Bran was easier to wake, but he was more time consuming. He always bathed the previous night with someone’s help, so all Jon had to do in the morning was help him pull up his pants and tie his shoes. He could tell Bran was groggy from sleep, but he waited patiently until each limb was in the correct garb. 

His little brother yawned, “I’m starving.”

“Food is coming soon,” Jon promised.

Bran used the metal bars he had installed after the accident to pull himself onto his wheelchair. Jon kissed his brow, and left him to finish the routine on his own.

He rapped his knuckles on Sansa’s door, wondering why he bothered to do it every morning.

“Come in.”

She sat in front of her vanity, dabbing her pale cheeks with a makeup brush. she had always been the first to wake. Jon smiled down at her, grateful to have one less child to look over.

Sansa sighed. “You’re still wearing last night’s uniform. You ought to change if you don’t’ want to be late.”

He rolled his eyes, “Yes, ma’am.”

She scoffed and turned back to her mirror, but he could see her lips curling in a small smile. He headed to the kitchen and placed several eggs in a pot of water, turning the over on the lowest notch so it would boil slowly. He put some slices of bacon in the microwave and turned on the coffee maker before running back upstairs for a quick shower. He ran back downstairs as soon as he was dressed, checking the clock to make sure they were on time.

The younger two sat around the table as Jon put the boiled eggs and bacon on their plates; Sansa always took care of making the toast for everyone. It was a small act, but he was always thankful for it. He peeled and salted his own boiled egg, chewing it while standing up before turning to the kitchen. He sipped his coffee as each one of the kid’s lunches was packed; each lunchbox had a bag of chips, a juice box, protein bars, a cookie, and a single apple. Children needed their fruits, of that much he was certain.

“Jon, can you help me?”

Arya stood behind him, holding up a comb and a bobble hair tie. He used to muss up her hair when they were younger, but she was apt in getting it tangled all on her own.

“I’ll do it,” Sansa said immediately, standing behind her.

“No!” Arya hissed, “You always make it hurt.”

She gave her a pointed look. “Jon is busy.”

“It’ll only take a moment.” He had often thought Arya his favorite when they were younger, but being guardian of the three of them made him question that mindset. Still, he could never deny her anything. 

Jon brushed out the tangles in her hair and wrapped it into a high ponytail; that was the only hairstyle he could manage. Yet Arya was pleased, thanking him with a kiss on the cheek and running back to the bathroom to put away her comb.

The kids brushed their teeth then scrambled into Jon’s car as he folded Bran’s wheelchair into the trunk. Sansa sat in the front, as always, reminding them to strap on their seat belts. The drive to their school wasn’t very long, but the traffic to his office always made Jon nervous to be late. 

Jon pulled into his parking lot in a hurry and straightened out his tie before entering the building.

“You’re late.”

Alliser Thorne was standing by the front desk with his arms crossed, looking at his watch impatiently. Jon checked his own watch, and surely enough he was late.

By one minute.

“Traffic was bad.” Jon walked past him to his own desk, with the bitter man following on his heels.

“You cannot keep coming late.”

One minute late, he thought resentfully. 

“I won’t.”

“Everyone your age thinks they can get away with anything,” Thorne ket droning, “You’re late and incompetent at your job, taking more days off than should be humanely possible.”

Days off to plan funerals. Days off to go to court. Days off to take Bran to his physical therapies.

“That was a while ago,” Jon reminded him, “it hasn’t happened since.”

“A while ago,” Alliser agreed, “and I haven’t forgotten. If we weren’t so short on staff, I’m sure they would have fired you long ago. I would have.”

Jon reached the door to his department, stopping in front of it to flash Alliser a humorless smile. “But sadly, you don’t have that power.” It was true. Jon and Alliser had the same job position.

But Alliser returned the smile.

“Not yet.” He held the door open for Jon and motioned for him to enter. “Better get to work before you lose your job.”

That smug grin unsettled him more than he cared to admit. He waited until Throne was out of sight to let out a shaky breath and sit down in front of his computer, wondering why he had been so confident that Jon would lose his position. Losing his day job would certainly mean that he would lose custody of his siblings. For all he loved his uncle, Jon knew Benjen wasn’t stable enough to be granted guardianship. 

They could possibly be sent to a foster home.

No. He would not allow that to happen. He toiled over his workload , determined to prove Thorne wrong. By the time his break came, his hands where aching from typing and filling out paperwork. He considered passing up the rest to finish early, but he had already done twice as much as a regular day. 

Jon headed to the break room and bought an energy drink from the vending machine, then pulled out his phone to research caregivers in his area. He heard someone pull up a chair in front of him, but didn’t look up from his phone until Sam spoke up. 

“Good morning!”

His mouth twitched upwards. “It’s noon.”

“Oh. It is, isn’t it?”

Samwell Tarly was the only other man in his department with a similar education level. They got along well, mostly because Jon was the only one who didn’t mind his rambling on books. With a Bachelor’s degree from a private university, he knew Sam could find a better job. When Jon asked why he had stayed in his position for years, Sam only reddened and muttered about enjoying his job. He suspected it had something to do with the receptionist, Gilly. 

“Do you know if Davos is leaving the branch?”

“Yes, Mr. Seaworth found a better job outside of town! Well earned too, I’d say.”

Jon could not share Sam’s enthusiasm. If that was true, it meant that the manager position would be open for someone experienced; someone like Thorne. He took a gulp from his energy drink and continued scrolling through his phone, frowning deeply.

“Is that all you’re eating? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you eat food in here,” his co-worker noted, taking a spoonful from his home-made mac and cheese.

He grunted in response and scratched his beard absent-mindedly.

“I’m fucked, Sam.” He put his phone away, yielding the search for now. “The cheapest Nanny in my area will charge me seven-hundred a week. How in seven hells am I going to pay for that?”

Sam paled. “Why do you need a new nanny?”

“Old Nan can’t take care of the kids any more.”

The spoon fell off his hand onto the table, splattering cheese over the table. “Old Nan is DEAD?”

“What? no!” Jon laughed for the first time in that day. He picked up Sam’s spoon and wiped over the table with a napkin, still grinning, “She’s retiring.”

“Oh, well, that’s different,” he flushed deeply but smiled, “she deserves some peace after working for years. Though I will miss her stews.”

Jon did not know how to refute that.

“If I don’t get someone to watch the kids while I’m at work…” he trailed off, crushing the empty metal can with his hands in bitter contemplation.

“What about Sansa?”

That irritated him further. “Should I give her custody of the other kids as well? Maybe ask her to get a job to pay the bills while I’m at it?”

Sam shrugged, “That could work. Lots of kids her age-”

“No,” he said sternly. Sansa was a child. The eldest after him, but still his little sister. He was her guardian as well. “I’ll figure something out.”

Jon waited in silence as his friend finished his lunch, sulking over his mistakes and failures. It was not the first time he had considered selling their parent’s large estate, but after Lysa’s lawsuit, the house was all they had left. He would not do that to his siblings or his father’s legacy. Winterfell did not belong to him no more than it belonged to Lysa Tully. A loan was ideal, he decided, still unsure if he should approach his uncle or a company.

“Jon,” Sam said meekly, startling him out of his thoughts, “Maybe you should ask your friend for help. Y’know, the lawyer.”

He furrowed his brows, “Missandei won’t want to babysit for cheap rates. She makes more than I do.”

“Yes, b-but, maybe you could hire one of her clients. One of the . . ” he took a hesitant breath, “… non-native ones.”

Jon smiled sadly. Sam, you sweet fool.

“You want me to ask a lawyer for help to break the law? To hire someone without a work permit and—“ his mouth went dry, “—someone I can’t even pay minimum wage?”

Sam stood up and put his bowl back in his lunchbox, “it was just a bad idea, you’re right.”

He agreed, and they both went back to work.

 

It was a bad idea. A terrible idea. There were several laws that would be broken within such agreement, yet Jon couldn’t stop thinking about Sam’s suggestion all week. Every time he found a potential nanny with impossible rates, desperation clawed at his throat. The final straw was when his loan application was denied. 

He could not believe himself as he walking through the door of Missandei’s building on a Saturday morning. You can still get a loan, he reminded himself. Call Benjen and get a loan, you fool. But his feet took him to the elevator and to Missandei’s floor. Half a dozen men and women from foreign countries lined the waiting room, waiting to hear their fate. Jon felt guilty as he scanned over them, wondering which sweet old Lady was worthy enough to entrust his siblings to. At this point, even that was questionable. He booked an appointment and waited for more than an hour, feeling weak and uncertain about his future. After a while, the receptionist called his name.

Missandei looked up in surprise as he entered her office. “Jon?“

“Hi,” he muttered, pulling out a chair.

She looked around the room, then down at her watch. “I have clients right now. You could have called me.”

“I’m here as a client.”

She stared at him as if he had just said something in a language that she couldn’t understand. That itself would have been strange, considering her extensive linguistic studies. After a moment, Missandei nodded and sat down in front of him.

“You have legal questions for me?” she asked slowly.

He didn’t know what to begin. “Yes.”

She chuckled, “Jon, I’m an immigration lawyer. Your ancestors basically founded this town. Maybe I can help you after work with whatever-“

“I want to know about immigrants,” he blurted, clenching his hand and suppressing the urge to cringe. 

“Alright,” she shifted uncomfortably, “What do you want to know?”

“Most of your clients— they’re illegal, right?”

“Most,” Missandei admitted warily, “However, I cannot give you confidential information about any specific clients.”

“I know. I just wanted to know … do some of them work?”

“Yes,” she sighed impatiently, “Jon, is there something you need from me? Is one of your friends in danger from deportation? Perhaps if you told me the situation, I could be of more help.”

So he did. He told her about Old Nan’s retirement, about his low funds, about the kids and Sam’s outlandish suggestion. Missandei’s frown deepened with each word.

“You want my help to exploit some poor lady into taking care of three kids?” 

She was offended, he realized.

“I have a job offer,” Jon explained quickly, “I can pay food and boarding and maybe a small wage, but-“

“A small wage?” she snapped at him, “You have some nerve to come here! You’re not the first one to exploit hard working people for labor, but I never expected this from you!”

“Missandei,” he pleaded, “I know some of your clients need jobs and a place to stay. Please, it’ll only be for a little while. Until I can find a better solution. Bran is still recovering from the accident. Sansa went through hell in court, and Arya keeps refusing to talk about our parents. I can’t do this on my own,” She flinched, looking down to her hands. “I need help, and you help people. It’s what you’ve always done. They’re good kids, you know that. Whoever looks over them will love them as much as I do, even for a short period of time. I won’t mistreat anyone who offered me help. I could repay them for the work once I get on my feet, all I need is more time.”

For a moment, he was hopeful that she had changed her mind. The relief didn’t last long after she shook her head and stood up to open the door for him. “I’m sorry. I cannot legally encourage you to hire anyone without a work permit, much less if you intend to pay them less than they deserve.”

The drive back home felt eternal. Jon drove carefully on the rain and arrived in time to cook lunch. He ate silently as the kids talked around him, staring at Old Nan the entire time and hoping she would miraculously decide to stay. She was too feeble to cook or do anything more than watch the kids, and he felt stupid for not foreseeing her retirement long ago. He washed his own dish, but everyone else was in charge of cleaning after their own mess. That adjustment had been rough for three kids who had previously had servants and two parents to clean after them, but they had grown accustomed to it in time. Or as well as could be expected.

By Sunday, he had exactly one week left to find help. The morning Jon told the kids about Old Nan’s retirement, Arya had to hold Bran until he stopped crying. Her own eyes were watery, but she did not spill tears or say anything. Sansa had immediately asked to take over, swearing she was responsible enough; somehow, that had felt even worse. He was failing them.

After work, his limbs ached and his eyes felt heavy, but he could not sleep. He wondered if they would be better off with someone else, or if selling the house might be a good option after all. It occurred to him that he might be able to rent out the free rooms for money, but that felt wrong as well. Still, if it had to be done, Jon would have to face his father’s old room for the first time. He hadn’t even crossed the hall to see where Robb used to sleep; not for years.

He had been turning in bed for over a restless hour when his phone buzzed. Jon groped for it in the dark, nearly dropping it as he read a message from Missandei:

I FOUND SOMEONE.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was really dazed by last chapter's outpouring of support. This is a very personal story with several real aspects of my life/love one's lives that came together to inspire this fic. 
> 
> Jon and Dany WILL meet on Chapter 3, I just ask for patience and I promise it'll be worth the wait.
> 
> I had to speak to 4 REAL immigration lawyers for hours and research the hell out of this fic, so for the sake of my sanity please don't give up on it yet lol. 
> 
> Don't like? Don't read. I'll filter out any unnecessary or rude comments, so please don't fight on the threads! That said, feedback (even constructive criticism) is welcome. 
> 
> If you must contact me, my tumblr is @violet-eyes-silver-hair


	3. Pancakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dany has an important meeting to attend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M BACK! A WHOLE MONTH BUT I AM BACK WITH 6K WORDS!!!!!!
> 
> OK Before you begin, here are some things to clear up:
> 
> -The Stark kids are aged down, Jon and Dany are in their twenties  
> -The place they live in is not America, London, or even Modern Westeros, just left up to interpretation of the reader  
> -The laws will be based off American immigration stands, since this is where I live/the lawyers I speak to live  
> -Modern politics discussed- you were warned
> 
> * This chapter is dedicated to Alice, who was patient enough with me to wait for my nonsense inspiration to strike and talented enough to clean up my mistakes.
> 
> ENJOY!

DANY II.

The worst thing about living in a hotel was her cats, which was ironic, considering they were the best thing in her life at the moment. They were not meant to be locked in a room all day, but she wouldn’t risk letting them roam about the building on their own. All three of them had pawed and scratched at their confines as Daenerys locked them away in their cages. Her day was important, she wouldn’t risk coming back to ribbon-scratched curtains and ruined carpets. They were wroth with her, she knew. Viserion and Rhaegal turned away from her and barely ate or drank anything. Drogon had been worse; the little beast hissed and scratched at her, wailing inconsolably any time he was imprisoned.

But Missandei had given her an opportunity, and they all needed to endure a few more hardships before they could thrive again. According to her friend, there was a family looking to hire some foreign help. The fact that a single father had asked to meet a _foreign_ worker specifically let her know at once that the pay wouldn’t be much. But a starter job was the first step she needed to take.

There had been a time in her childhood when she dreamed of having a family of her own, but that had been long ago. Daenerys liked children well enough, but disrupting her career to raise a babe had not been appealing. But fate had tasked her with the children of Jon Snow. Missandei told her of the man was in need of a babysitter, but not much aside from that. They made plans to meet in the coffee shop after they left work, so she had to lock in her cats before leaving the hotel.

Daenerys had made a picture in her mind of her possible employer. The single father was probably another greying, middle-aged man, with a beer belly and a bald spot. She had been unsure of the possibility of working and living for a strange man, but Missandei convinced her of his good nature.

A cold brew would have been welcomed on that hot day. The weather was not nearly as sweltering as the city she used to reside in, but Daenerys had chosen to don a fitting long sleeve shirt, something she came to regret in her discomfort. The currency here was worth less than in her hometown, so she had to be careful with her funds. A cheap coffee would be enough, even if it was scalding.

The large crowd inside the cafe did nothing to improve the heat or her mood. She chose to sit at one of the empty armchairs, looking around for any sign of Missandei. She sent a text message to let her know she had arrived, but it hadn’t been read.

Her one-time lawyer was the only friend she had, it seemed. After it was known that the Stallion Cartel wanted her dead, she was not welcomed back in her friends’ homes, not even to say farewell. If they had gone after her brother, surely they would pursue her other loved ones. Cartels knew that if they stopped tormenting those who wronged them, people wouldn't be afraid to resist. It made Daenerys indignant to know she had become an outcast and a victim, but proud that she was important enough to unnerve them.

Those thoughts were interrupted as someone accidentally brushed her arm to take the seat next to her. She was about to tell the stranger that the spot was occupied but she froze with her mouth already open; Dany forgot to breathe. There was a lapse of time when all she could do was rake her eyes over the man, drinking in the sight of his plush lips and long eyelashes that framed a pair of brown eyes. His beard managed to appear well groomed and rugged at the same time. The world had far too many pretty men to fall prey to just any of them, but it was the sleek, grey business suit over a muscular frame that made him stand out and caused her to speak first.

Daenerys offered a shy smile. “Hello.”

She was pleased to see him take notice of her as well, staring a little too long at her frame before shifting his gaze. Dany wished she had worn something more alluring, but the turtleneck seemed to suffice.

“Hi,” he breathed out, running a hand through his hair; it was black and curly and distracting. “Is this seat taken?”

“Not at all.”

He nodded and motioned to the armchairs. “Everywhere else is full.”

“Oh, it’s terrible,” Dany lied, grateful for the cluster of people. She reached out a hand and tapped the leather briefcase next to him, hoping he wouldn’t think her too intrusive, “Might be a bad place to meet business partners, if you ask me.”

He rewarded her with a smile. “I didn’t choose the place.”

“But you are here for business.” It was not phrased as a question.

“Of sorts,” he admitted, “And you? Are you here for business?”

He dressed sharply and spoke with confidence. The heat was clouding her head, and his question filled her with shame once she remembered her unemployment.

“Of sorts. I’m an attorney, but I’m not here for that line of work.” A strange look crossed his face, but Dany veered off the subject, still tapping her fingers on his briefcase, “I’m trying to put down some roots around here, so I’m meeting a friend. What about you?”

“What about me?” He leaned closer, easing into the conversation.

“You must have some roots here,” she said, waving a hand in the air, “Is it a good place to live?”

“All my roots are from here, actually. I’ve lived North my whole life, and I don’t have any plans to move.”

Daenerys had picked the right place to migrate, it seemed. She blushed at the thought, because she hardly knew anything about this man. Yet, neither shy or haughty, his demeanor was easy to like.

“I could use more company, if I’m being honest.” It came off casual and playful, as if she wasn’t completely alone in a strange place. “Would you like to join me for dinner, after we’ve resolved both of our affairs?”

His face fell, and she knew at once something was amiss. Perhaps she had been too bold, or he had another woman to return to that evening. That hadn’t occurred to her, but a quick glance at his hands told her he wasn’t married. Still, her proposition hadn’t come off as seductive or romantic, had it?

“I’d like to say that I could,” he began, leaning back into the armchair in discomfort, “But my . . . business will likely take a while to sort out. In fact, I could also use some time to dine out and—” he reddened “—keep you company, but I really must be home as soon as possible.”

Crestfallen, she kept up an understanding smile, “I didn’t mean put you in an uncomfortable position. It’s alright, truly. I only meant that you seem like a good person to befriend.”

“Yes, you too,” he amended quickly, “But I’m afraid, you’ve caught me in a bad moment now and— well I don’t even know your name.”

Her mouth opened, but the answer did not come from her.

“Daenerys!”

Heads turned to the woman making her way into the cafe. Missandei looked slightly flushed and ruffled, as if she had ran miles to get there. She hurried amongst the crowd and took up the armchair wedged in front of her and put down her purse with a loud thud.

“Oh good, you two met,” she said, slightly out of breath. Dany glanced over to the man with renewed unease, but Missandei did not take notice. “Sorry I’m late, there was a problem at the office, but you two seemed to have found each other without my help.”

No.

“Find . . . who?” the handsome stranger seemed dumbfounded as well; Dany filled with dread when she realized he seemed to know Missandei, almost as if he was expecting her.

No! Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Oblivious to their tension, their mutual friend took off her blazer, “It’s too bloody hot outside, and the parking was full, so I had to park far back and run here in heels! But we’re here, aren’t we?” She clapped her hands together and took a deep breath, “So how are the negotiations going?”

Dany chuckled nervously. “You’re Jon Snow?”

He fidgeted with his hands, but otherwise gave her a blank look. “I am. So you must be Dan-ries?”

“Daenerys,” Missandei corrected. “I just assumed you two met, but it’s no problem, that’s why I’m here isn’t it?”

Remembering this was akin to a job interview, Dany straightened up. The memory of her intruding on Jon’s personal space earlier brought a blush to her cheeks, but she kept her voice even. “Right. Missandei told me you were looking to hire a babysitter?”

Twirling her nappy hair in between two fingers, the lawyer clicked her tongue. “As far as anyone is concerned, I’m merely introducing two good friends of mine on a Tuesday afternoon. I’ve never heard of a business proposition between the two of you, and if I did, I never encouraged it, since it is strictly speaking illegal. My good friend Daenerys just wanted to have a good time on her ‘holiday’, so I introduced her to my good friend in hopes that they would kick it off.”

“Woah, I’m not here to—”

Dany caught on quicker. “I understand.”

Missandei nodded curtly. “And that is what I will say if any judge happens to asks me how you two met. I never gave either of you any legal advice. I never encouraged an exchange of services. In fact, all I knew is that you—” she pointed to Jon, “were in need of help. And you—” she pointed to Dany “—were looking for the prospect of staying away from your country. Maybe you were looking for a job that could take you in for a work Visa, I don’t know, but I never poked too much into your circumstance. Got that?”

“Of course,” Dany agreed.

Jon seemed uncomfortable with the technicalities, but he didn’t argue.

Missandei seemed just as uncomfortable. She stood up and dusted off her pants. “I’m going to buy a coffee. It’ll take a while, and as far as I know, all you ever did in my absence was flirt.”

She wouldn’t be lying. Dany winced.

Jon frowned. “Is the secrecy really necessary? No one—“

“Coffee!” She snapped, “I’m getting coffee!”

Abruptly, she did just that.

Amused, Daenerys watched her walk away. “I don’t think she wants to be a witness.”

“A witness,” he echoed drily, “as if we’re partners in crime to some underground organization?”

“I suppose.” She suppressed a grin at the irony of it. “So, Jon Snow. A single father of three kids, works two jobs and needs a babysitter.”

He raised his eyebrows, “You know a lot more about me than I know about you.”

“You can ask whatever you’d like,” she offered, wishing to appear more transparent. Dany underwent his silent scrutiny before he spoke up again.

“Guardian.”

“Sorry?”

“I’m their guardian, not their father.” Jon sipped his coffee pensively before continuing, “we share the same father. After our father died in a car accident, the kids became my responsibility. It wasn’t easy, but I had the help of our family nanny. A week ago, she declared her retirement. That’s my situation.”

An irrational part of her was disappointed to know that her handsome stranger had turned into a struggling man in need of money, but all she said was: “I see.”

“I’d like to know your situation. Only the truth.”

She was surprised at his brashness. “I haven’t lied about anything.”

“A moment ago you said you were a lawyer,” he recalled quietly, “And right now, we’re talking about the prospect of you working for me.”

Blood rushed to her face in sudden indignation. It was all she could do to keep her tone even, “I did not lie. I’ll have you know, I graduated from law school one year earlier than everyone else.”

Unimpressed, he crossed his arms. “So why are you talking to me?”

“That’s my business,” she said icily.

Jon let out a mirthless chuckle. “You expect me to let a stranger watch over my family? I need to know why you’re here, or I’ll just have to think you lost all your money and credentials to gambling or—” he scoffed “—or drugs. You could be on the run, as far as I’m concerned.”

Her eyes stung from unshed tears. Her heart raged against the men who put her there and against Snow for reminding her. Daenerys knew he was speaking from concern and reason, yet she couldn’t help but to feel angry. She stared back at him in defiance, blinking away the tears and refusing to blow the chance.

“I am on the run,” Dany admitted quietly. So she told him the truth; she spoke about the Stallion Cartel and her part in their massive incarceration, about her brother’s death and the life she had to leave behind. He listened to her hardships intently, keeping a rigid posture, but his eyes betrayed him; the judgemental hardness had softened into compassion. Still, he said nothing.

“You have more questions,” she guessed.

“How do I know you’re telling me the truth?” His face was apologetic as if he believed her already.

But his unrelenting cynicism made her smile weakly. “I can call my former boss if you’d like, though it’ll have to wait until tomorrow, it must be midnight there by now.”

“That won’t be necessary.” He leaned forward as he had before. “Well, at least you have a hell of a work experience.”

“I’ve never been in charge of looking after children,” she granted, “but I like kids, and I learn quickly. I can be patient, and I can be fair.”

Jon mulled that over, running a hand over his face. His silence was unnerving.

“When would you be available to work?”

“I don’t have much of a life here yet. My days are free,” she reminded him, “Mornings, evenings, nighttime. Whenever you’d need me, for now.”

“I come home at six on weekdays and work at night on the weekends. Whenever I’m off, I’ll watch the kids. You could do as you want with your time.”

She nodded. “That seems fair.”

“Missandei said you needed a place to live. We have room. The other nanny used to live with us as well— but I can’t afford a lot more than that. You can have a modest check at the end of each month,” he clenched his jaw, trying to find an appealing way to phrase it, “but food and housing I can provide for you.”

It was a pitiful exchange in compared to her last job, and they both knew it. Still, Jon seemed adequately embarrassed, and if Missandei was to be believed, he was a good man. They were both desperate, and she found it in her to sympathize.

“You only have three younger siblings?”

Jon exhaled deeply and flexed his hands. It was clear he was relieved that she was still interested.

“Yes. Two girls and one boy.” He paused. “Bran was in the car with his parents. He can’t walk.”

A chill ran down her spine. The prospect of caring for them suddenly became more daunting, but she kept her chin up. “Does he have a nurse to watch over him?”

“Bran goes to physical therapy once a month. Aside from that, no nurses. All you would need to do is help him dress, maybe carry him once in a while. He’s still learning to maneuver his wheelchair, and it’ll get stuck sometimes, but it only takes a moment to help him.” He paused, sipping off his own coffee. “He’s a good kid.”

Her mouth had gone dry. The affection in his voice caught her off guard.

“There’s something else. . .” Dany said hesitantly, dreading the discussion, “I have three cats.”

“Cats?”

Dany wondered if he could house all of them, but she needed to push her luck.

She took an influential tone that she would use at court, “I will not live without them. I’ve had them for seven years, they _need_ me. They’re good companions, and they’re all very clean. I can pay for all of their expenses myself, if you’ll allow them in.”

If he denied her, she wouldn’t know what to do, so she stared down at him, determined to stand her ground. Jon was reluctant, but he gave in a curt nod. “Fine.”

It was as if a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders. “Thank you.”

Missandei returned from the counter, sipping off a tall drink.

“Everything alright here?” she asked as she took her seat.

“Yes,” Daenerys said, and she was sure of it.

Jon asked her more questions. About her background, her discipline, and her documentation. Their friend chipped in from time to time, assuring him that she was a good fit for the job or telling her how sweet the children were. All the warmth from their first exchange was gone, but the thrill had remained. She couldn’t help but to feel excited at the prospect of a new start. There was no perversion or finesse about his gaze, and it surprised her how far she was willing to trust these people in such a short period of time. But Missandei had been right, Dany _was_ brave, and the risks had to be taken.

 

Darkness had fallen over the café. They knew enough about each other to be satisfied for the night. Missandei had left them two hours earlier, but they hadn’t stopped talking about the aspects of the job. It was evident that Jon cared deeply for the wellbeing of his family, and despite his remoteness and cold professionalism, she took a liking to him. Only as an employer, of course; anything else would be out of place.

Dany suggested visiting his house and meeting the children before coming to an agreement. He granted her request, inviting her in his black SUV for the trip. He pulled the passenger door open for her and put aside a pink coat away from the seat.

“My sister’s things,” Jon apologized. He looked to the back of the car and frowned at the clutter, “I’m sorry for the mess. Kids can be,” he drove out of the parking lot “, messy.”

“That’s alright.” She folded the coat and placed it on her lap, stroking the soft fur lining. “Your oldest sister, how old is she?”

“Fifteen. You can see why we need the help. She might be good to watch the kids once or twice, but not every night.”

Dany said nothing, picturing an angry fifteen year old teenage girl with his raven curls and eyeliner smeared on her eyelids.

“I can’t wait to meet her.”

“Sansa won’t give you trouble,” he said, “I mean, none of them will give you trouble, but the other two need your attention most of all. She can take care of herself.”

“They’re not allergic to cats, right?”

Jon chuckled. “No. They’ve been asking for a dog for years, so they might be happy.”

That came as a relief, until she had a mental image of children pulling her cats’ tails.

“They’re outdoor cats. They’ll stay out of your way.”

It was strange how comfortable they grew of speaking about future promises when they hadn’t even made present arrangements.

The car stopped in front of a pair of metal gates. “Wait here.” Jon unbuckled his seatbelt and made to exit.

Dany thought it strange that an apartment complex wouldn’t have automatic gates, but didn’t think much of it when he manually pushed them open. He returned to the driver’s seat, and the lights flashed by the small post labelled ‘Winterfell.’

As they drove on, she noticed the lack of houses in the complex. In fact, the only thing surrounding their road were trees. She couldn’t find her way out even if she tried. Finally, the car halted in front of a building. But it seemed out of place. Dany tried to understand how a young man and three children could possible live in . . .

“Welcome home.” Jon stepped out, leaving her stunned inside the car. He opened the passenger door for her.

She was awed. “Do you rent this place with another family?” That was the only explanation she could think of.

He looked back to the stately home with a small smile. “Winterfell is the only thing we have left to our name.”

They stood for a moment to admire it. Standing three floors tall, the estate was painted white, with a grey tiled roof and oaken structures. Flowers and vines grew along the sides, yet it looked more homey than abandoned. What stuck out to her the most was the thick, circular tower underneath a cone roof. It made it look nearly half a castle, and Daenerys was sure the property must cost a fortune.

“I know you’re probably wondering why I haven’t sold the place yet. The money could saved me a great deal of trouble.”

 _It’s beautiful_ , she thought, but all she said was: “Maybe it’s haunted?”

Jon hummed quietly. “In a way. This place is all we have left. Winterfell has belonged to our family for centuries, I cannot be the one who lost it.”

Something in his tone made Dany think that there was more to the story. Before she could pry into anything else, a shrill scream rang through the house. Jon cursed under his breath. It was all she could do to keep up as Jon sprinted to the front door. Within seconds, he had his keys out and threw the front door open.

White as a sheet, he appeared as frightened as she felt. Dany hurried behind him to the living room, only lit by a dim blue light. On the couch, three figures cowered under the same tangle of blankets. Popcorn littered their laps and tumbled to the floor. The only source of light was a flat screen TV that shone down on the guilty faces of Jon’s siblings. The room grew quiet except for the muffled screams and dramatic music playing in the background. Daenerys stayed in the shadows of the hall, suppressing the urge to laugh at the scene.

Abruptly, the skinny brunette sat up and paused the TV. “You’re back early.” She smiled at Jon with all the sweetness in the world.

Her guardian was not amused; Jon exhaled loudly and pointed to their TV. “What was the big rule I gave before leaving the house?”

“Don’t set the house on fire?” the girl quipped. Her grey eyes sparkled with mischief.

He turned to look at the oldest, who sat up calmly and had begun to pick up the fallen popcorn from her lap with dainty fingers. “You said _‘no adult horror movies._ ’ This one is a thriller,” she reasoned.

“I heard the lot of you screaming.”

“I wasn’t scared!” the boy announced. “Arya, show him!”

She threw off the covers and sprinted to the foot of the table that held up the TV. A thick cable ran through the back of it, long enough to drag to the floor and meet the laptop it was connected to. Arya held up the smaller screen and grinned.

“See? It’s PG-13,” she said proudly, as if that settled the issue.

Jon pointed to the younger two. “Neither of you is thirteen yet. Do you want me to cancel our internet connection?” The amusement in his voice gave him away, and Dany knew that he wasn’t truly cross with them.

A feeble voice interrupted the argument. “Dear, why don’t you introduce us to the girl you brought home?”

The old woman was sitting on the chair closest to her, but she had been so wrapped up in blankets that Dany had missed her. Aware that all eyes were on her, she stepped closer into the room.

“Hello,” she offered.

Arya’s eyes followed her before settling back on her brother. “How come you didn’t tell us you had a girlfriend?” She asked accusingly.

Dany cleared her throat. “I’m not dating your brother.”

The accusing tone turned on her. “Why not? He’s a great guy!”

Jon checked his watch. “shouldn’t you be in bed by now?”

“She’s pretty,” the boy blurted out. In the dim light, his face turned red. “I meant, you’re pretty.”

“What’s your name, sweet girl?”

It had been a long time since anyone called her ‘girl’, but she knew the old woman meant no harm by it.

She extended out her hand. “I’m Daenerys.”

Instead of shaking it, the woman held her hand with two of her own and squeezed it affectionately. “Are you my replacement?”

“I don’t think I could ever take your place, ma’am, but I am here to offer my help.”

Wrinkled lips smiled fondly. “Oh, I like you. You can call me Nan.” Nan turned to the rest, “Listen to your brother, children.”

The oldest stood up, and Dany was dismayed to see that she was taller than her. She turned on the light, revealing her hair to be a shining copper color. Daenerys had to look up to meet the blue eyes.

“My name is Sansa,” she said politely before turning to her younger brother. “Come on, Bran. Time for bed.”

A dark look crossed the boy’s face. “Bring me my chair, I can go myself.”

“It’s just around the hall, Bran,” she said patiently.

Before any protests could escape him, she took the boy into her arms. Dany could see the boy’s ears turn bright red, and she felt unsure of how to react. They bid her farewell before going to their rooms.

Arya seemed unfazed by the interaction, as if it happened often. Her attention was on Dany. “Will you move in with us, like Old Nan?”

Nan chuckled and made to stand. “You need to hold your tongue, sweetling.” Jon moved to her side at once, helping the old woman up like a gentleman. She beckoned the girl to her side. “Bed with you.”

Arya gave them one last lingering look before leaving with a quiet giggle.

“They’re mental,” Jon muttered under his breath.

Nan hummed in agreement and smiled knowingly, as if sensing Dany’s unease. “They’re easy to care for, dear, you’ll fit in just fine. The timing is just right! I knew Jon needed another woman in his life, and here you are! Ah, God is good. Well, don’t mind me, I’ll be going to sleep now, you two must have many things to discuss.”

She gave Jon a goodnight kiss on the cheek and hurried out with a rapid pace unfitting of her age. Her words struck Dany as a tad too traditional, but there was no point in speaking out about that. Keeping up a sullen face, Jon led her through the house on at tour. Their home was just as lovely on the inside, but showing signs of careless clutter. It was the sort of place she would have dreamed about when sharing a shabby room with her brother; even in her position, Daenerys marvelled at the hope of living there.

Jon showed her the second floor; the hall was large enough to be a living room of its own, with several doors lining a wall and windows on the one opposite to it. He pointed to the furthest door on the hall, “over there is my room. Old Nan still sleeps in the room downstairs, but you can take the guest room.”

He took her in it. The tall ceiling made the modest room appear bigger than it was. The only furniture were two wooden tables, a bed, and a dresser that looked as if they had been carved in the Victorian age. Daenerys would never have picked the design, but it was clean, and left plenty of space for a litter box. She pictured a cozy perch for her cats on the corner, and the thought made her smile.

“It’s as I said. I can only give you room and board with a modest allowance, but you won’t have much to do.” His voice was sullen and unconvinced, but he didn’t understand the scope of her dire situation.

Daenerys met his gaze and held out her hand. “We have a deal.”

 

In the end, they agreed for a month of work. The pay disappointed Dany, but it was far better than being unemployed and wasting money on the cheap hotel. He had dropped her off for one last night, vowing to return the next evening to take her home. She packed her bags, passed the day by grooming her cats, and waited patiently for his arrival. To her relief, the kids were asleep the night she arrived. She could tell Jon was tired from the long day, but he made no comment as he took her bags upstairs; she was the one to haul the cat carriers, urging the beasts to stop mewling. Jon had even reheated dinner for her. He ate nothing himself and went to sleep early with a fatigued ‘good night.’

  
That first night in the unfamiliar room made her uneasy, shifting for more than an hour before giving in to a restless sleep.

Her schedule had not adapted to her new country’s time difference, so waking up before dawn had been easy for her. Two of her cats lay relaxed in the carrier, watching lazily as she changed into fresh clothes and put her hair into a braid. The largest of them, Drogon, hissed and scratched at its confines; she would have to ask Jon if she could take them out. Captivity did not suit them, and she would be forced to give them to someone else if her new host didn’t welcome them.

Daenerys felt uneasy as she thought of how dependant she had become of that man in such a short period of time. True, she had sufficient funds if there was a need to stay at a hotel for some weeks and find another job. But in three month’s time, she will have overstayed her legal welcome and be open for extradition. Any misstep around Jon Snow could mean her end. Her only consolation was the knowledge that he was breaking the law by hiring her, and heavily relied on her own discretion.

Dany went straight to the kitchen. No one had told her where any items were, but she found the sufficient ingredients and got to work. The coffee maker was outdated, but she figured out a way to turn it on easily enough. She found a full box of teabags in the pantry, and helped herself to a cup. After all, this was her home now.

She had set the table with breakfast when she heard the footsteps around the house. Waiting made her slightly nervous, as if she was somewhere she wasn’t supposed to be. Doors opened and shut, and the sounds of voices eventually filled the house. Finally, the nearest hallway lit up, just in time to warn her of her employer’s arrival.

Even then, she was unprepared for the sight that met her; he had entered the kitchen wearing only pajama pants. His curls were tousled by sleep and his abdomen was lined with defined muscles. Her cheeks burned hot, and she almost dropped her teacup. Jon seemed startled as well, freezing mid step as he saw her. He must have been aware of his state of undress too, because he crossed his arms defensively and cleared his throat.

“Good morning.” She hoped her voice didn’t sound strained.

Jon shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. “What are you doing here?”

Dany’s stomach dropped. Perhaps he had expected her to ask permission before cooking, or maybe she wasn’t allowed in the kitchen at all. She swallowed, hoping that one mistake on her first day wasn’t enough to get her fired.

“I made breakfast,” she explained.

Jon looked away from her and seemed to notice the pancakes for the first time, gaping slightly. She waited for him to say something to relieve her panic, but he only nodded. He stepped around her and into the kitchen, opening a cabinet and taking out three colorful lunch boxes.

“I’ll just pack their lunch, then.” He was facing away from her, but his back muscles were just as enticing.

Daenerys felt flustered, as if the kitchen was suddenly too small for the two of them.

“I’ll do it,” she blurted.

For a moment, she thought he was displeased at her suggestion, but then he turned, murmured his thanks, and went back upstairs.

She drank the rest of her tea quickly before preparing their lunch. There was plenty of time left for her to make sandwiches for Jon and his siblings. She put a bag of baby carrots in each lunchbox, with a mixed variety of any other snacks that she could find.

There was a slight gasp behind her, and Dany turned to see the red-haired girl taking a seat on the table and thanking her politely for cooking. The younger brother was behind her, wheeling himself excitedly in front of a plate. The remaining two entered last in a hurry.

Arya halted in front of the table. “Holy shit, she made pancakes!”

Bran laughed, but Jon turned away so his sister wouldn’t see the grin on his face; Daenerys saw it. It made him look younger and handsome.

“You shouldn't curse.” Sansa sounded tired. She gave Daenerys an apologetic look, “Forgive my sister.”

The girl reddened and sat down. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright.” Dany went back to pack their food.

It was a bit startling so see them all eating so quickly, without talking to one another. Perhaps they were hungry or tired, or they were truly enjoying her food. Either way, she was pleased. Sansa finished first, licking the maple syrup off her fingers.

“Would you like me to make you some more?”

“Ahh,” She seemed to remember her manners, cleaning her hands with a napkin and standing up. “No thank you.”

Sansa washed her own plate before going back into the hall.

Arya finished as well, but instead of leaving, she raised a hairbrush that had been sitting on her lap and looked to her brother. “Jon?”

“Right.” He yawned into his fist and moved behind his sister’s seat.

Dany was aware of her own exhaustion, but she watched curiously as he combed out the strands carefully, from tip to root. After wrapping up his sister’s hair into a ponytail, he ran a final hand over her head her head to smooth the hairs into place; the whole thing was so tender, it felt intrusive to watch. “Is this okay?”

She took back the brush. “It’s perfect.”

Arya gave him a peck on the cheek before running back to her room. Jon smiled to himself as he put on his jacket. Daenerys held out the brown paper bag.

“I didn’t know where you pack your lunch,” she explained.

Their fingers brushed as he took the bag from her. Jon started down at it for a moment, running his thumb over the careful folds of the paper. Dany felt as if a reprimand was coming, but she was met with silence again.

“I usually don’t pack my lunch.”

She reddened. “Of course. You must eat out. I’m sorry. I can eat it myself if you don’t want—”

He was kind about the blunder. “I’ll take it.”

Dany nodded and went back to work. She cleared the table and worked dutifully around the kitchen, reminding herself that it was only temporary. The kids gathered by the front door and took their lunchboxes.

“Goodbye, Ms. Daenerys,” Sansa said, pushing her brother’s chair out of the door.

Bran waved at her, “Bye!”

Arya frowned. “I’m sorry. I can’t pronounce your name.”

She crouched down to her eye-level and smiled. “You’re not the first one. It’s okay. Dae-neh-ries.”

The girl bit her lip.

“Tell you what, you can call me ‘ _Dany_.’”

“I like that better.”

That made her laugh. “Have a good day at school, alright?”

Unbothered by formalities, she jumped out the door and hollered over her shoulder. “Cya, Dany!”

At her side, Jon chuckled. Despite all her worries, the sound helped to put her at ease.

“Thank you.”

She turned to look at him. His gaze was still on Arya as she climbed into his car. The morning light met his eyes and made them shine like amber.

“For what?”

His eyes turned to look at her, and for a moment, she forgot the circumstance. Once again, he was the handsome stranger. “The pancakes. They were great.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You lot: *comment love and support for the first two chapters*
> 
> Me: "Oh fuck, I don't want to let anyone down! let's take an abnormally long time to plan this chapter so I can whip up some rushed paragraphs after work!"
> 
> You lot: *love the concept!!!* 
> 
> Me: "Oh fuck, I better do a lot more research than necessary for a chapter that doesn't dwell with immigration laws yet!"
> 
> You lot: *Love the ship!!!*
> 
> Me: "Oh fuck! I should overanalyze how in character these two are and whether the situation is fitting for with their responses!" 
> 
> Me: fuck it, it's been a month. Lets publish what we got


	4. Piano

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon gets the day off work and breaks routine for once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS TOOK SO LONG IM SO SO SO SO SORRY YOU HAD TO WAIT 40 DAYS BUT THIS IS MY FAVORITE CHAPTER YET AND THE LONGEST TOO!!!
> 
> PLEASE DON'T BEHEAD ME I'LL EXPLAIN FURTHER ON THE END NOTES!!!!
> 
> ITS 34 PAGES LONG AND 6.2K WORDS YOU CANNOT SAY I DIDN'T FEED YOU WELL OKay 
> 
> *hovers sword over you* ENJOY, OR ELSE!

****

**JON II**

 

Being early to work had several benefits; he could chat with Sam for a while without being disturbed; there was plenty of time to enjoy a cup of hot coffee; the paperwork became easier to handle with a head start. But none of these things were nearly as satisfying as seeing Alliser’s disgusted scowl every morning that he failed to be late.

 _He will not take this job from me_. Bartending was secure, but hauling weekend tips wasn’t enough to feed three children, two adults, and three cats. This is what life came down to, he thought, shaking his head; cats.

Of course, there was someone to thank for all the drastic changes. Jon had only been so early to work for the past three weeks thanks to the considerably lighter workload in the morning. The kids were well taken care of, and more lively than he’d seen them in years. He felt a blitheness that he hadn’t felt since. . . _long ago_ , even with Old Nan’s help.

Nearing the porch, he heard muffled sounds of music. The first thing that occurred to him was that their babysitter was hosting a house party, yet there were no cars parked in front but his, and it was barely a quarter past noon. Jon unlocked the front door and was welcomed by an upbeat song in a language that he could not understand. Curious, he went to the livingroom to look for the source of the sound.

Daenerys had her back to him, picking up the mess that the children had left behind the previous night. She was humming to the tune of the song; Jon had no doubt she could understand the lyrics. She must think him ignorant in comparison. No matter how much he needed her help, it felt wrong to have someone of her level work for someone like _him_. Often, he wondered if she thought he was taking advantage of her. Coming home exhausted from bartending had him thinking bitterly that he gave her too much. But seeing her smitten with the kids as he drank the morning coffee she’d brewed was like drinking a hot cup of guilt.

Staring at her suddenly became too intimate, as if he had walked into someone else’s house; he cleared his throat. Jumping at the sound, she looked up and stopped humming when she saw him there. After a moment, she composed herself and crouched over a small speaker to pause the music.

”Don't stop on my account,” he said to break the abrupt silence. “Just pretend I’m not here.”

“Oh,” Daenerys looked surprised, but not unpleasantly so. “Hello, Mr. Snow,” she amended, professional as always.

Daenerys was good at that, he had found. She always listened raptly to his instructions and answered politely. She wasn’t afraid to ask questions or speak her mind, while _never_ being vulgar. She was like Sansa in that, but while his sister took the act of a sweet girl, smiling through unpleasantness and pretending to be pleased by everything, Daenerys was kind, but distant, not sparing him more time than she had to.

“You can call me Jon,” he said, “But I can call you Ms. Tarngerian, if you’d like.”

She winced slightly, “Daenerys is alright.”

Jon frowned, feeling foolish again, “Did I mispronounce it?”

Amused, she smiled and nodded, “Targaryen.”

“Tart-Garen.” He flinched at his own attempt, knowing it was wrong. “Sorry.”

Daenerys walked closer, so he could hear her better. Pink lips stretched out with each syllable, “Tar-gair-ee-in.” Her voice was low, and not meant to be enticing, yet he couldn’t help but stare at her mouth a moment too long.

“Targaryen.” Jon smiled at the small triumph. “I’ll try to remember.”

Satisfied, she turned back to the mess of the living room. “I didn’t know you’d be home so early, I would have made you lunch.”

“You’ve done enough. You made lunch for my break,” he reminded her.

Jon had never asked her to, but she always did it anyway. No one had done that before. His father had given him lunch money in his youth, while the rest of his siblings ate their mother’s food. Old Nan offered to pack him lunch, but he always refused her, pretending that he liked the freedom of buying food much better than anything homemade.

“Oh, so you ate already?”

“All of it, it was really good,” he assured her.

That made her smile too. “Why are you home so early?”

He took off his jacket and loosened his tie. “The lights went off in our building and all the servers crashed. Couldn’t input anything in the system so they sent us home for the day.”

“That’s great,” she said distractedly, folding up a blanket that had been on the floor, “Get some well deserved rest.”

 _Lose a well deserved day of pay_ , he thought, but he only nodded and went upstairs to change into something more comfortable. He was running short on clean clothes, but he managed to find a clean t-shirt and a pair of jeans. Deciding to do laundry, Jon took the hamper downstairs and saw Daenerys making herself some tea in the kitchen.

“Do you want some?” she called out.

“No, thank you.” His father’s wife always liked tea; Jon had grown a distaste for it. “Daenerys, would you like to take the day off?”

She considered it, taking a sip from her tea. “That’d be great, thank you. I need to go to a market and buy some things. Is there a bus I can take?”

“I can take you,” he blurted.

“Hmm, we are also short on groceries now that I’m thinking about it,” she agreed, “thank you.”

He nodded, and took the hamper into the laundry room. He was about to open the top of the washing machine, but there was one slight problem.

“Er, Daenerys?” he called out, “could you come here for a moment?”

She peeked her head into the laundry room and gasped, putting down her mug on a table and striding over.

“Drogon,” she scolded, picking up the black cat from the top.

“It’s alright.” He knew the cats were a package deal. Arya and Bran had been thrilled to have pets in the house once Jon gave them permission to roam freely. The excitement wore off when they realized the cats liked to spend most of their time outside, and barely interacted with any of them. This suited Jon perfectly, but he’d heard Sansa complain once or twice about the hair they left behind.

The cat wriggled out of her grasp and jumped to the floor. It looked up and hissed at Jon, narrowing its molten eyes indignantly before scurrying out of the room. He chuckled and turned back to work, tipping the contents of the hamper into the washing machine and setting the cycle.

Daenerys hadn’t left the room, frowning down with uncertainty. “Did Old Nan do the laundry for you?”

“No. Nan was old and frail. You already do a great amount of things that she didn’t, perhaps you don’t have to take up as much as you do. Your help is enough, trust me.”

Daenerys raised her eyebrows, “She seemed really happy that you had someone to help you.”

That she had been, Jon remembered. The wicked woman had made a show of leaving the house by asking all the kids to be extra nice to their babysitter and assuring them that they were in good hands. She gave Daenerys what must have been a suffocating hug and kissed Jon on both cheeks, winking and making suggestive comments about their _“promising future”_. Afterwards, he gave her a profuse apology and swore that he never intended to make her uncomfortable, but she just laughed it off.

“Decades of taking care of Stark men must have taught Old Nan that we’re nothing but big babies.”

“Maybe she was right.” The corners of her mouth twitched upwards. “Can I ask you something?”

He hummed, ready to answer her questions.

“I noticed . . . well I thought your surname was ‘Snow’, but you keep mentioning that you’re ‘Starks’, so . . .”

“I’m a Snow,” he admitted. “My father didn’t know I existed until my grandmother told him – years after I was born. My mother died shortly after I was born, and she insisted on keeping me a ‘Snow’, like her. My father took me in his home after he found out I existed.” Though Eddard Stark never changed his name. Jon didn’t know if he did it to honor his mother, or because he didn’t want to disrespect his wife.

She frowned, “So Sansa, Arya and Bran are just your half-brother and sisters?”

“Yes.”

Daenerys nodded, “It was very good of you to take care of them.”

He flushed, “Anyone would have done the same.”

“You’d be surprised.”

That left him at a loss for words. He forced a smile and took out his car keys, “You’re ready?”

“Let me get my jacket and then we can go.”

+   +   +

The drive to the store was quiet, except for the wind rustling past the windows. She sat next to him in silence, tapping away at her phone as they waited for a street light to give way. He remembered the first time she’d been in his car, the night they met. They had talked a bit then, but Jon’s mind had been loud and plagued by embarrassment. He must have mulled over their meeting a hundred times in his mind since then, debating if she had been flirting or not. In truth, she was only being kind, and he was being foolish. But at times, he still found it curious, how eager she had been to join him, without even knowing who he was. Sometimes he wondered if she still would have been interested in him after finding out he was a cretin on the brink of bankruptcy.

 _It’s better this way_ , he thought, squeezing down tightly on the steering wheel. He had no need for more _friends_ , and his family always came first. Even so . . . he stole a glance at her through the corner of his eye, admiring the fullness of her lips, the flutter of her eyelashes, and the curve of her nose. The jacket was unzipped, leaving her neck exposed and giving way for his eyes to sweep over her creamy skin and sculpted collarbones. It was hard to look away from her.

A blaring honk from the car behind them startled him out of his thoughts. Dany jumped a little in her seat. He turned away to see the light had given into green and drove on, heat rushing to his face. She cursed under her breath and shook her head, his starring hopefully unnoticed.

“People have no decency,” she said, scowling back at the car behind them.

Jon knew she was referring to the honking jerk, but he couldn’t rub off the feeling that she was maybe talking about him. His flush deepened. “Yeah.”

After that, he cut through a shortcut by the edge of the forest and noticed some of the trees were turning orange. It might have been hot outside, but the kids had already settled in school once more, and summer would soon end. In the blink of an eye, winter break would come. Who would take care of them then? He gave a quick side look to Daenerys, but something in the road caught his eye.

If she noticed the flash of white, she gave no indication. A stab of fear prickled through him. Jon threw his right arm out on instinct and braced it in front of her before stepping harshly on the brakes. Distantly, he heard her cry of surprise and the screech of tires against concrete, but the sound of his heart pounding out of his chest filled his ears. He shot Daenerys a look to check if she was alright. She was shocked, shaking slightly from the sudden halt, and a little disheveled, but otherwise alright. He pulled away his arm from her middle and cursed as he got out of the car, dread clawing at his throat.

 _Please be alright_ , he thought. He looked out to the empty road ahead of him and felt a groan of dismay escape him, his knees going weak. She left the car too, striding angrily towards him.

Daenerys was out of breath. “What was that?” she demanded.

Instead of answering, Jon crouched down in front of the SUV and placed his shaking hands on the ground, looking under the car. A pair of red eyes shined in the darkness, and he allowed himself to take a breath. Daenerys had crouched next to him.

Realization dawned on her. “Did you run over something? Is it dead?” she whispered.

“No.”

She extended out her hand and beckoned the animal closer, murmuring sweet words in what he thought was Valyrian. The pup was small enough to stand upright under the bottom of his car. It approached them carefully in small steps. Daenerys made a grab for him when she thought he was close enough, but it only made the dog flinch further back. Jon shook his head and asked her to let him try instead. His own legs felt stiff in the position, and he had scrapped his forearms against the gravel, but he did not move until the pup made its way to him and Jon could hold it in his arms. 

It was such a little thing, slightly smaller than a cat, with white fur hiding under a layer of dirt. Jon was unsure of how old the pup must have been, too big to be a newborn, and already walking, with red eyes wide open.

“I can’t believe he’s alright,” she murmured, “we need to take him to a shelter.”

“No.” This one was an albino. Likely to be neglected or put down. “He’s scared. He needs to regain some strength first. Get some food, maybe a bath.”

She glanced at the forest, “Do you think his mom is somewhere in there?” 

Jon doubted it. Motherless, just like him. “Sometimes people leave their dogs in the forest when they grow too big. This one is a pup, but if he has a family, they’ve probably left him behind.” 

Her mouth opened in surprise, “I thought you didn’t want pets.” 

“I don’t. He’ll be gone by next week, but we can’t just leave him like this.” It occurred to him that Daenerys might want nothing to do with it. “Is that okay with you?”

“Of course. It’s your house, after all.” She moved closer and scratched the top of the pup’s head with two gentle fingers; it closed his eyes, enjoying her touch. Daenerys took off her jacket and shifted it as a sort of nest in her arms. “Here, I can take him.”

That surprised him. Neither one knew if the dog had fleas or a sickness, but she hadn’t even hesitated to give her help. He asked her to sit in the passenger seat and hold her arms out. The pup was reluctant to leave Jon’s grasp, but they were both significantly stronger, so they subdued it for the ride. Jon let out a sigh of relief as he buckled his seatbelt, driving carefully and glancing at the pair every so often. Eventually, the pup had eased into her lap. 

Jon parked in front of the store. 

“Can we bring him in there?

He shrugged, “Worth trying.”

He turned off the ignition and hurried to open the door for her so she could hold on to him. Entering the store, Jon caught the eye of the security guard. It was clear he noticed the puppy in Daenerys’ arms, but she smiled sweetly and waved, acting as if this was all supposed to be happening. The man smiled back and tipped his hat, leaving them to pick a cart and place the dog in it over her jacket.

Making sure that the pup was comfortable, they began looking for their groceries. He bought any food their pantry was lacking, and checked if Daenerys needed anything else; she insisted on going to the spice aisle, because apparently _‘salt wasn’t the only condiment in the world_.’

She held up a packet of what looked like dried leaves. “I can cook a casserole my friend used to make for me with these. Would you like to try it?”

The packets were cheap, so he shoved three of them into the cart. “Sure.”

The pup sniffed at the bags suspiciously, but relaxed once he realized her spices posed no danger. After food, Jon added to the cart bags of dog food – wet and dry – a collar, a leash, and a chew toy for good measure. Daenerys raised her eyebrows and stifled a giggle.

“Just for a week, huh?”

He had meant that. “Yes.”

“Okay,” she looked down at the pup, who was behaving exceptionally well and staying away from the boxes on the other side of the cart. “Let’s get you home, buddy.” 

+    +    +

Back in the house, Daenerys told Jon to feed the dog while she brought in the groceries. They decided to leave the cats outside and far from the pup, neither one sure how they would react. The last thing Jon wanted was for a fight to break out, and no matter how beloved her cats were, he didn’t need to take unnecessary risks.

After it was done eating his fill, he took the little cub into his arms and to the bathroom, filling a third of the tub with warm water for him. It was clear that the little beast was scared, but Jon’s soft caresses and her sweet words were enough to temper him.

“Good lad,” he murmured, sitting on the lip of the tub and rubbing the grime off its fur. Daenerys held the shower head to rinse him off, then she wrapped him up in a towel and moved him on the floor. They kneeled over it and patted him dry, their legs damp from the puddled floor. The pup pulled away from them and shook off the water, splashing everything in the process. “Ugh, bad lad!”

He scooped it once again, soaking his shirt entirely as they wriggled to his room. Daenerys went to change, so he left the dog sniff curiously at his bed while he looked for dry clothes. When he turned around, the pup was fast asleep. He fastened the newly bought collar around his neck and scratched behind his ears, proud to see the white coat shining spotlessly. 

A knock came through the door. He opened it quietly and placed a finger on his lips, motioning to the sleeping dog. 

Daenerys made a quiet noise of endearment. “Poor baby must have had a long day. Can we lock him in here, so my cats don’t bother him?” 

“Yeah,” he whispered back, stepping out into the hall and closing his door.

Neither one moved, enjoying the peace of the quiet house for once.

“I can’t believe you accidentally adopted a dog.” 

“For a week.”

“Hmm,” she smiled, “First we were partners in crime, and now we’re running an illegal animal shelter.”

The reminder of their misconduct did little to faze him. They were putting themselves at risk by infringing a system which was essentially meant to protect them. Was this a just exception? Or was it an excuse? The last thing he wanted was to exploit her, but if his miserable wages were her best option, was it so unacceptable to settle for them? He was unsure, but not as guilty as he ought to be.

“I hope I can put that on my resume,” Jon said darkly, “partner in crime.”

“Put me down as a reference when you do,” she played along, “crime associate director. I’ll give you a good review.” 

He laughed, thankful for her banter. “Thanks.” The silence dragged on for a beat, so he scrambled his head to think of something to say. “Your music was nice. The one you were playing when I walked in. I’d never think I would like that kind of music, but it wasn’t bad.” 

“What music do you usually listen to?”

The question threw him off. “Most things, really.”

“Yes, but what’s your favorite kind of music?”

“I’m not sure.” He shifted uncomfortably, scratching the back of his neck.

She must have seen through the lie. “You can tell me.”

Jon hesitated, “You know the piano on the third floor?”

Her mouth dropped slightly, plush lips forming an ‘O’ in surprise. She composed herself and smiled.

“I didn’t think you played the piano.”

Subtle dimples bloomed on her cheeks when she smiled. He’d never noticed that before.

“When we were little, our father made us all take piano classes. My older brother always hated it, but not me. I was good.” He used to take pride in it. Playing was one of the few things Jon had done better than Robb.

She hummed, “So you like classical music?”

He felt his face grow hot. “It’s not the only thing I like but-”

“Can you show me?”

Jon chuckled nervously. “What?”

Her smile was almost shy now, but she was insistent, “The piano.”

“I haven’t done it in years.”

“Does the piano still work?” 

“I think so, but-”

“Come on,” Daenerys said, already leading the way. 

Amused and half-exasperated, Jon followed. “Don’t set high expectations!” he called out as she hurried up the stairs. Daenerys was taking off the protecting sheet when he caught up to her. The surface was as shiny as he remembered, and he wondered if she had cleaned it recently. 

Jon sat on the cushioned bench and grazed the keys lightly, feeling his throat tighten at the nostalgia. He pressed down on one of the keys and listened to the tune. He played another key with his other hand, trying to remember something. Then a third note came to him, and a fourth, then his mind went blank as his hands did all the work, taking over with a song he thought forgotten. He felt Daenerys brush against him as she sat down, but all his attention was on the music. The melody had begun as quick and upbeat, but somehow it had taken a slower pace. It sounded like mourning, and his eyes prickled as he realized where he knew the song from; Robb had played it once to their father to prove he didn’t need any more piano lessons. It was the last song he’d ever hear him play.

A shrill ringing broke his focus, making his finger slip on an abrupt note. He took his phone out of his pocket and answered the call but said nothing.

“Jon?”

 _Sansa_ , he realized with a jolt.

“Oh shit, what time is it?”

“Did you forget?”

“No no no, I’ll be right there,” he said.

“See you soon.” She hung up.

He turned to Daenerys beside him, “I have to pick up the kids.”

She ignored that. “You’re amazing.” 

“I . . .” he stood up, letting the wooden board fall over the keys, “I’m rusty. And I have to pick up the kids.”

“But you’re really _great_ ,” she blurted. The admission seemed to surprise her as well, but she didn’t take it back. “I’ll watch the dog while you’re gone.”

“I’ll be back soon.”

 His head buzzed as he made his way back to the car and drove to school. Jon found himself wondering what Robb would think of Daenerys, or what his father might say of their arrangement. The thoughts were futile, and nothing good could come out from them. The car parked in front of the school just in time as the girls approached, wheeling their brother forward.

 Jon helped them inside and packed away the wheelchair. He asked them how their day was, but found little interest in Arya’s play, Sansa’s book club, or Bran’s robotics club. He drove on, satisfied to hear them talk amongst themselves until they reached the house and remembered that he needed to warn them before they went inside.

 He stopped the car and turned to give them a serious look, wondering how to approach the subject.

 Arya beat him to it. “What’s wrong?”

 “I almost ran over a dog today.”

 She sprung forward from her seat. “ _WHAT_?”

 “Was it okay?!” Bran demanded.

 Sansa looked horrified. “Are _you_ okay?”

 Jon nodded. “Yes, I’m fine. I’m just telling you because he’s still recovering from the shock, so you have to be gentle.”

 “You mean…” Arya looked wistfully upon the house. “You mean it’s in there?”

 He smirked. “Help me get the chair out first.”

 In the blink of an eye, Sansa and Arya had exited the car and slammed down the wheelchair next to the back door. Bran nearly swung himself onto it using the car’s roof handle, but Jon managed to grab his brother before he hurt himself, and settled him down. He asked the three of them to calm down, but they rushed past him to the porch, waiting impatiently for him to unlock the door.

 Inside, Daenerys put a finger on her lips and shushed them from the couch. They could make out a ball of white fur curled up inside a blanket that she nestled on her lap.

 “He woke up crying when he found himself alone. I think he likes the attention,” she said softly.

 “He’s so tiny,” Bran whispered.

 Arya kneeled in front of the couch with wide eyes, while Sansa hovered over them with a shy smile. When Jon himself took a step forward, the pup suddenly woke up and raised its head to look at him. His sisters gave squeals of delight as all of them began to fawn over the dog. If it was overwhelmed by the attention, it didn’t show. He met Daenerys’ eyes and they shared an amused smile.

 For a while, they sat in the living room watching T.V. and playing with the pup. The girls chased the dog around the house, and helped fetch the tennis balls that Bran threw at it. Arya had to wriggle a couple of them out of his muzzle, and sometimes he would snap at them, but it was all a game.

 Jon’s secondary job hadn’t scheduled him for that night, so he helped Daenerys make her casserole. He failed to pronounce the name of her spices but he listened raptly to her instructions as she measured them and infused them in the food. She sprinkled a tiny bit of orange powder into a spoon and dared him to eat it. His eyes teared up as he coughed and gagged on the substance. Her eyes were tearing up as well, but from laughter. She promised it would taste much better once cooked, but her words were pointed by breathless giggles that she couldn’t keep in. He would have gladly eaten another spoonful just to make her laugh again.

 After the kids exhausted themselves, they gathered for Dany’s casserole. It was a tad more zesty than he was used to, but still he ate it all, unfazed after gagging on the powdered spice. Sansa took a few dainty bites before claiming she was full, while Arya asked for a second portion. The youngest asked for a third. Once sated, the girls did their homework in the living room. Free from homework, Bran lay on the floor with drawings and color pencils sprawled around him. Daenerys fit right into their picture; silver waves cascading past her shoulders as she looked down to her laptop, looking ethereal even in the artificial light. He was on his laptop himself but found it hard to concentrate.

 “I’m drawing Ghost,” Bran announced, to no one in particular.

 Sansa looked up from her homework. “Who’s Ghost?”

 “The dog,” he explained, focusing down on his drawing.

 That troubled him. Naming the dog did not help to make the kids any less attached to it, but even he had to admit it was a fitting name.

 Daenerys voiced his thoughts. “I like it.”

 Bran nodded, contemplating his piece of art.

 “Red eyes. Please hand me the red color, Dany.” He stretched out his hand without looking up.

 She chuckled, “Sure.”

 Amused, she handed it to him, and Bran wasted no time getting back to work.

 “Thanks, mom.”

 The room grew colder at that. He felt as if someone had punched him in the gut. Arya gasped softly, and even Daenerys had frozen on the spot. Of course, Bran hadn't even noticed the sudden tension or realized his mistake.

 Sansa slammed her book harshly and rose from the seat.

 Arya scowled. “Where are you going?”

 “Bed.” Their sister didn’t even spare them a second look before disappearing in the hallway.

 Jon listened to her footsteps intently until he heard the click of the door. He wondered where her anger came from. Was it grief? Did she miss her mother so much that the mere thought of her wounded her?

 “I think it’s time for you to go to bed too,” Daenerys told Bran.

 His eyes were drooping, and he had folded his arm under his head as a pillow on the floor. “I’m not even tired.”

 “Liar,” Arya murmured. She closed her own book and packed away her homework before climbing down from the chair to peck Jon on the cheek. “Goodnight brother. G’night, Dany.”

 Daenerys gave a small wave, “Night.”

 “Brush your teeth!” Jon called out. He heard her curse under her breath and slam the bathroom door.

 The youngest was dozing off on the floor, Ghost snuggling by his hip. Jon scooped his brother in his arms, stirring him slightly.

 “Nite, Dany,” he said sleepily, eyes still closed. “Can Ghost sleep on my bed tonight?”

 “No.”

 “Why?”

  _Because you shouldn’t get used to him_. “Because if he has a disease, you might catch it too.”

 “I don’t care,” Bran insisted, but the words were slurred by a yawn.

 In the darkness, he tucked him under the covers and kissed him on the brow. _‘Mom’_ , he’d called her. Did Bran already consider Daenerys a mother? They only knew her for a few weeks, but his brother was too young, and easy to impress. Though it was more than that. In reality, she was more than he could have hoped for. Jon would need someone to look after them, at least until Bran and Arya were old enough. Years, maybe. Who could fit the role better than her?

  
He went back to the living room to turn off the lights, but he saw Daenerys in the kitchen, sticking up the drawing of Ghost onto the fridge.

 “Your brother draws better than me.”

 “He draws better than all of us,” he agreed, admiring the picture. “I’m sorry about what he said.”

 She grew pale, her lips pursed into a thin line. “There’s nothing to apologize for.”

 He put away the dirty pans, cleaning up the mess they made earlier. “So I was wondering, with your dilemma and all, how long are you planning to stay here?”

 She tensed, turning her back on him to put away the ingredients she used to make dinner. “I don’t know. Where’s ‘here’?”

 “This country. The North.” _This house._ “Not that it’s any of my business. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

 Her face was unreadable when she turned back. “Are you asking me if I’m planning to stay here illegally?”

 “Sorry.” The question might not have been sensitive on his part. “I suppose I am. Forget it.”

 She held up her chin and studied him. “Do you propose a better option?”

 He swallowed. “No, I think you’re doing what’s best for you right now, even if it’s . . . a bit atypical.”

 “I don’t want to do it, you know.” She crossed her arms defensively, but her voice was tired. “But am I supposed to go back where I came from and get a bullet to my head?”

 Jon flinched as if she’d hit him, a shudder running through him. His problems suddenly seemed like child’s play in comparison.

 “No. I’m sorry for asking. You’re right.”

 She nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “But I appreciate your help. I know you wish you could do more for me, but no one else offered me a place to stay, not even Missandei. Thank you.”

 He forced himself to bring up the offer. “You can stay here for as long as you need to. I know our deal isn’t the best you’ve ever had, but we can extend it until you find a better job.” Each word made him feel as if he was manipulating her. He had to bite his cheek to keep from taking it back.

 Daenerys looked genuinely touched. “Thank you.”  

 They cleaned up the kitchen in silence. He wanted to say something more, thank her, assure her, apologize, for what he was unsure, but every time he opened his mouth nothing came out. He settled to scrubbing the dishes, sulking over his words.

 “What do you plan to do after I leave?” she asked, breaking him out of his head.

 “I’m not sure, yet.” He managed a smile, “don’t worry about it. We’ll be okay.”

 The answer didn’t seem to satisfy her, but she nodded. “I found a couple places looking for a translator. Maybe I’ll get a job there, if they don’t check my documents.”

 He couldn’t rein in curiosity, “and if they do check the documents?”

 Her face curdled. “I can always clean hotel rooms and start from there.”

 “Right.” That stung even worse. “But if you want to live here in the long term, why haven’t you applied to get your papers?”

 She laughed bitterly. “Why didn’t I think of that?” Her voice was rueful, but there was no anger towards him.

 “I guess it’s not as easy as that.”

 Daenerys smiled sadly.

 “There are only a few ways a person can apply for legal residence,” she explained, “the easiest ways would require me a sponsor, for either family or work. I would need an immediate family member to vouch for me. Or my sponsor would have to be an employer who wanted to hire me full-time in here.” Jon opened his mouth to interrupt her, but she interrupted him. “The employer would have to show proof that the job opening couldn’t be filled by a local worker, and they would have to pay thousands in legal fees.”

 “Of course,” he said bitterly.

 They spoke no more on the issue and finished the chores for the night. Daenerys opened the back door and waited for her cats to come in, leaning against the frame and waiting for them. He took one of Ghost’s plates in hand before picking up the pup and going to the hall.

 “Hey, Jon?”

 He turned back, unsure of what came next. “Yes?”

 “Thanks for the exciting day. You didn’t have to put up with me on your day off.” 

“It was nothing.” He shifted the dog in his arms. “You didn’t have to help me rescue this dog on _your_ day off.”

 “Oh,” she shrugged, “it was nothing.”

 He chuckled. “Goodnight, Daenerys.”

“Night.”

 +   +   +

 The lights were turned off and the door was shut, but he could not go to sleep. Ghost paced around the room, scratching, sniffing, and growling at every new item he found. The dog was as restless as him. After a strange moment of silence, Jon raised his head to see the pup nibbling on one of his shoes, ignoring the chew toy at the foot of the bed. He groaned and made his way to the dog, chiding him half-heartedly and throwing the slobbery shoe across the room. He placed Ghost on his bed again. The pup was more than happy to pounce on the mattress until he almost fell off the edge and Jon had to pull him away. After the sheets wouldn't give in to his attempts of burrowing a hole, he curled into a ball and rested down his head.  

 Jon lay on his side, running a hand over Ghost’s fur until he fell asleep. He watched until the red eyes closed, wondering what to do with the dog, his siblings, and Daenerys. She was too smart to stay unemployed for long. In no time, she would have a new job and a place of her own to live in. Even if he managed to bring her wage up somehow, he had no doubt she would find a better option eventually. No matter how humbling her tasks became, it was clear she knew her worth.

 He sat up carefully and removed Ghost’s collar to keep him comfortable, running his fingers over the black fabric and metal fastenings. _Daenerys will not stay_ , he realized, _not unless I can offer her something no one else can’t_ . He stared intently at the collar in his hand, but it was so dark only the silver _ring_ glimmered under the moonlight.

 And the idea struck him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the story of September: Full-time worker, part-time student, every day fangirl trying to cope with all these ideas at once.
> 
> I spent most of my little free time on this fic, but also got really frustrated because words wouldn't come out for this chapter so I started working on all the chapters ahead.
> 
> I think I must have written by now like 9 new scenes through 4 different chapters, not to mention I already wrote the epilogue (though that's FAR off, trust me you'll get fed) so I was a little shaken by how ambitious I was with this chapter and how long it really turned out to be. Every deadline I set for myself I missed, and I could not have been more frantic. Also consider I can't tell my family "hey folks I'll lock myself up to write a 32 page Game of Thrones fanfiction" so I was due in my free time.
> 
> The next chapter is already 1/3 done, thanks to my asshole inspiration who comes at the WRONG TIME, so keep an eye out for that.
> 
> Most of all, I'd like to thank the most wonderful beta in the world, Alice, who despite living in Belgium, me in the USA, put up with my insane schedule, woke at any hour, and worked wonderfully and full of support and patience the entire time. I really admire her compassion and talent, and I honestly could have not hoped for a better Beta. Thank you for the ideas, thank you for the courage, the time, the memes, and the moodboard. I dedicate this chapter to you, my dear. 
> 
> Everyone go on the comments right now and ignore me and say "THANKS ALICE!" 
> 
> Thanks Alice! Okay, cya around, guys!
> 
> \- EDIT - L()()K HERE ----> PSA FOR U.S CITIZENS: 
> 
> If you would like to help the situation of immigrants like Daenerys here and you live in the U.S, please register to VOTE ON NOV 6!!!!!!!!!!!
> 
> This election you will chose your representatives and the electoral college, which will come to vote for the 2020 Presidential election. Do your research, and put some effort in it. Remember, voting is patriotic!
> 
> I myself live in the U.S and don't have the right to vote. I cannot make my voice heard on the ballot, but I can make it heard here. For each person that comments they voted, I will add 20 words to the next chapter. 
> 
> \- - - - - - - - -

**Author's Note:**

> The next Chapter will be Jon POV. They may or may not meet in Chapter 2, depends how long it takes to introduce Jon's situation, which is very tough as well.
> 
> Suggestions, concerns, or corrections are welcome, but do not be rude.
> 
> If you'd like to contact me, my tumblr is @violet-eyes-silver-hair


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